


Baby, ignite me

by captainhurricane



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Body Worship, Established Relationship, M/M, Praise Kink, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 19:33:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13371627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhurricane/pseuds/captainhurricane
Summary: Newly established boyfriends find the time to get to know each other intimately.





	Baby, ignite me

**Author's Note:**

> a teeny-tiny sort-of-sequel slash extra-chapter for [Baby, light my fire.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12993381/chapters/29708709) Not really required to read that one. 
> 
> also listen to [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i1_JtYpAdts)

The rain had started suddenly, leaving the entire city drenched and sneezing their ways into work, into dates, out of school, back home. It hadn’t left Shiro and Keith untouched, despite the short distance between the restaurant they had been dining it and Shiro’s car. They had ran from the restaurant to Shiro’s car, both laughing and leaving wet spots on the car seats. The dinner had gone well, Shiro had less eaten his crawfish and more stared at Keith, Keith had pierced his hamburger straight from the middle. They had talked and talked and held hands under the table.

“You remember what we talked about yesterday?” Shiro asks as they put their seatbelts on. Shiro had dug out a spare towel from the car and given it to Keith who brushes his hair free from its ponytail and dries it.

“Which part?”

Shiro turns the car on and waits for a second for the windshield wipers to start. He huffs. “All of it. Mostly the part where you come home with me.” They hadn’t talked about it much, but they had stroked each other’s hands. They had shared a kiss when Shiro had driven Keith from his apartment to the restaurant. They had shared looks and subtle little touches.

The passenger seat’s leather creaks when Keith places his hand on Shiro’s, the one already resting on the steering wheel. Their eyes meet. The corner of Keith’s mouth is curled up.

“Don’t be such a gentleman, Shiro.” He loosens his seatbelt and then leans over the gearstick, kisses Shiro with parted lips and a quick brush of a tongue. “And take me home with you already.”

Shiro draws a deep breath and smiles. He quickly brushes Keith’s cheek and waits until Keith is properly seated again before driving away from the parking lot.

The downpour continues but neither notices. They don’t speak during the ride, merely share a few glances, both with such promise in their eyes. At one of the two traffic lights between the restaurant and Shiro’s apartment, Shiro places his hand on the gearstick and Keith places his on top, squeezing.

Both wonder if the other is feeling the same electric current running through their veins: the same excitement, the same wonder. This is truly happening. Just a mere twenty-four hours ago Shiro was still wondering if Keith was going to stay.

But here Keith is, looking at him like there is no one else in the world.

Shiro’s quivering, Keith is trembling by the time Shiro finally drives to his apartment building’s garage.

“Here we are,” Shiro says and leads Keith out, offering Keith his hand. Keith takes it easily and lifts it to his lips, kissing it.

“Don’t tell me you’re on the top floor or something. This shit’s tall,” Keith huffs as they go to the elevator.

Shiro snorts. “The whole building’s just twenty floors. And I’m on tenth. You know. Just so you know- oh.” He shouldn’t be all that surprised that he’s being cornered, Keith’s hand slipping from his and ending up around his neck.

“Yeah. Oh. I already told Pidge and Lance I’m not going home tonight.”

Shiro’s arms wrap around Keith’s waist. Keith presses a kiss to his lips and quirks an eyebrow. Shiro’s fingers twitch. He smiles, kisses Keith back. They’re both slightly damp from the rain but neither cares.

“Now you have an excuse to get me out of these clothes,” Keith murmurs and brushes his fingertips on Shiro’s sensitive nape.

“I thought I already had a reason for it,” Shiro murmurs right back and slips his hands beneath Keith’s jacket. In here, Keith radiates such heat.

“Mmhm,” says Keith and kisses him with fervor, with determination that leaves Shiro dizzy and grasping Keith’s sides maybe a little too hard.

Too soon the elevator pings to release them to the tenth floor.

Shiro sighs. Keith takes his hand again and smirks like he had just won a race. Somehow his scarf hangs completely open, his jacket hanging by a one button. His hair is still such a lovely mess.

Shiro digs out his keys and opens the door, shoulders tensing. “Ah. Here it is. Home sweet home.” He places his hand on Keith’s lower back to lead him inside, burning up from the look Keith gives him as the door locks behind them.

“Nice,” says Keith and corners Shiro again, hands grasping Shiro’s lapels, mouths smashing gracelessly together. They kiss for a second too long, breaking only when Shiro huffs and Keith starts to laugh.

“Sorry,” he says.

“I’ m not,” Shiro says, finally shrugging off his jacket. “I like kissing you.”

“But maybe we should leave the entrance hall,” Keith says and kicks off his shoes. He hangs his jacket and scarf alongside Shiro’s and together they make their way further in, Shiro keeping his hand on Keith’s lower back, carefully rubbing it. He gives Keith the tour: shows him the small, neat kitchen, the living-room that Keith calls obnoxiously big, Shiro’s two huge bookshelves, even the neat little bathroom and the final destination, the bedroom.

“Quite big for one person,” Keith remarks, as they stop by the doorway.

“This place? Or the bed?” Shiro tightens his grip around Keith’s waist, just enough to be noticeable.

“Well, your bed’s about to have someone else in it so,” Keith huffs and turns around to face Shiro. “You ready to show me what you’ve got hiding underneath, big guy?” Keith slides his palms up Shiro’s chest, all the way to his face to cup it and kiss him.

“First, I think you’ve got to stop touching me,” Shiro murmurs, kissing back, his lips parting easily against Keith’s. He pulls Keith’s shirt out of his pants, slipping his hands underneath it. Keith’s body tightens when Shiro trails it with his fingers.

“You’ve gotta stop touching me first, big guy,” Keith huffs, making no move to part from Shiro’s lips. He pulls Shiro’s shirt out of his pants too, curling his fingers around belt-loops. “But honestly, if you feel uncomfortable, we don’t have to.”

Shiro makes sure Keith knows uncomfortable is the furthest feeling Shiro is feeling right now by slipping his tongue between Keith’s lips and swallowing Keith’s audible groan. “Sit down then.” Shiro reaches lower, curling his hands around the curves of Keith’s ass. “Unless you want to do the honours?”

Keith lets out the sweetest little sound of frustration at that, giving Shiro’s beltloops a tug. “You sure?”

Shiro flicks his tongue on Keith’s lips and smiles. He kisses Keith’s nose and then lets his hands drop to Keith’s belt. “I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t sure. Like you said, baby, don’t be so gentlemanly.”

Keith’s pupils dilating, his tongue flicking over his lips makes Shiro burn. His jaw tightens. He keeps his smile on, watching his newly minted boyfriend’s expression of rapt attention when Keith starts to unbutton Shiro’s shirt.

“Like I said yesterday, Shiro,” Keith murmurs. “No matter how many there are, I’m going to kiss every single one of them.” He does so now already, leaning up to kiss the scar across Shiro’s nose. It wrinkles at that when Shiro chuckles.

“And I believe you. Remember that I have to take off my arm at some point. I’d rather it not get, well. Involved. And it chafes when sleeping.”

“Mmmhm, too bad,” Keith says, and leans lower this time, kissing Shiro’s neck. “I like the arm. It makes you look like a fucking badass.” Keith’s lips are chapped, but they’re feather-light on Shiro’s skin. Keith already finds the first scar- a slash across Shiro’s collarbone- and he kisses it softly, reverently and tugs more buttons open.

Shiro shudders. Some of those crisscrossing scars are sensitive, his skin never quite recovering properly from the damage. Shiro slips a couple of his fingers under Keith’s shirt to stroke him, to gently, wordlessly urge him on.

“Some of those shirts you wore to class- fuck.” Keith is closer to the rest of the buttons now, having revealed most of Shiro’s chest. “How do you have the time to get this ripped with the workload you have?”

Shiro sighs, biting his lip. “I do wonder that myself sometimes.” He can’t stop looking at the way Keith’s eyelashes shadow his eyes, or the way Keith’s fingers move faster down his chest, until the last button pops open and Keith can help Shiro shrug off his shirt. It falls unceremoniously to their feet.

Shiro breathes deeply, heart thudding as he waits.

Keith looks, his fingers gentle and slow as they trail over Shiro’s chest and abs, mapping out the muscles and the scars. Most of them are from a scattered windshield: thin, white slices all over Shiro’s body but the worst is on Shiro’s right side. Keith leans closer and kisses what he can, his lips and the tip of his tongue enough to make Shiro shudder.

“Fuck, you’re so- “Keith’s voice has gone low, rough.

Shiro slides his hands back to Keith’s skin, nudging for Keith to remove his shirt entirely too. “Like what you see, baby?”

Their eyes meet and oh. Oh. Keith’s eyes look pitch-black, his lips parted, his cheeks so beautifully flushed that Shiro nearly carries him to the bed, just a few steps away right away. Keith’s fingers flick a nipple, gently brush over a jagged scar that runs right next to it.

 _“Do I like what I see?”_ Keith’s jaw is tight as he presses himself fully against Shiro, nibbling his jaw. “Can’t you feel that I _definitely_ like what I see.”

Shiro can. Oh, but Shiro can because there’s definitely a hardness pressing against him. He groans, wrapping his arms tighter around Keith and kisses him hard. Keith kisses back just as hard. It’s just as earth-shattering as it was the first time, hotter, deeper this time as their tongues swirl around each other, their lips parting and sucking. Their hands keep squeezing each other, palms wide, fingertips pressing into skin. Shiro never wants this to stop. Keith wants this to go deeper.

The kiss breaks when Shiro finally grabs Keith and lifts him, smiling at Keith’s surprise and carrying him to the bed, kicking the door shut behind them.

“Fuck,” says Keith as he’s laid down, as he pulls Shiro down with him.

“Yeah,” says Shiro and gets right back into kissing, his mouth opening easily for Keith, his skin shivering under Keith’s eager touch, especially when it goes over the scars on Shiro’s back and teases just beneath Shiro’s belt.

Keith turns them around with surprising ease, his palms spread on Shiro’s heaving chest, his lips on Shiro’s jaw. “Let me take care of you, big guy,” Keith murmurs.

Shiro jolts, his hands tight on Keith’s clothed thighs. “Your pants too, baby,” he murmurs.

Keith smirks, already yanking Shiro’s belt open. “Who do you think I am?”

Together they move up on the bed so Shiro’s legs are not hanging off the edge. Shiro’s hands slip from Keith’s thighs and slide into Keith’s hair instead, because that sultry, sweet mouth moves lower.

Keith makes good on his promise and kisses the curve of Shiro’s collarbones, even the one without a scar. He yanks Shiro’s pants open but first kisses his way all over Shiro’s chest, making it rise and fall and rise more rapidly: Keith’s lips and tongue draw intricate little patterns over the jagged edges of the scars, even kissing the tiny, barely visible ones that have already almost faded.

And all the while Keith keeps murmuring. He says _big guy_ and _Shiro,_ slips out even a couple of _Takashis_ that leave Shiro reeling.

“You’re doing so good, Shiro, so good. Do you feel this? Does this feel good? You look so incredible. I love how your breath hitches when I kiss you.” Maybe Keith isn’t even doing it particularly consciously and is just saying what comes to mind but Shiro appreciates it no less.

Shiro’s first whimper is met with a gentle kiss to his lips, then another to his tightening abdomen. Together they get Shiro’s pants off- and when Keith presses himself against Shiro again, Keith’s own have been kicked off the bed too.

“Do you want the arm off now?” Keith asks between kisses, between the gentle rocking of his hips against Shiro’s, their half-hard cocks brushing tantalizingly against one another.

Shiro’s dizzy and shivering, but he nods. Keith helps him sit up and watches as Shiro unhooks the prosthetic from his stump.

“Better do it now before we get too into it,” Shiro says, breathless from Keith’s careful ministrations.

Keith places his chin on Shiro’s shoulder. Keith caresses Shiro’s other arm, Keith’s own hands slender and small around Shiro’s bicep. “I kinda felt that you liked it,” Keith murmurs and gives Shiro’s erection a pointed glance. Keith’s own is poking against Shiro’s side.

Shiro groans when the prosthetic finally falls to the bed. “Oh, do I ever- do you realize no one’s ever done that to me? Ever?” He shifts to place the prosthetic in its spot to the night table before turning to Keith. “Sure, not everyone’s an ass like my ex-girlfriend but no one’s ever taken the time to- oh, Keith.”

Keith gasps when he’s kissed, makes such a sweet sound when he’s pushed down that Shiro wants to bottle it up and keep it forever in his heart.

“You deserve it,” Keith whispers. “They’re all assholes. You’re fucking gorgeous.”

Shiro can’t help but grin, can’t help but kiss Keith again and rock his hips down so their bodies press together.  The slow slide of their mouths against one another is feverish on its own: but it’s not enough. “That thing you did, Keith-“ Keith chases after Shiro’s lips but Sihro stays strong, instead lets himself hover a teasing distance away. “Telling me those things.”

Keith wraps his arms around Shiro’s neck and his legs around Shiro’s waist. “Those things?” His lips quirk up, so sweetly pink and swollen that Shiro has to trace them with his tongue.

“You know. I liked it. I liked it a whole lot.”

“You do, huh?” Keith tugs Shiro down for another slow, burning, feverish kiss. They begin to move their hips, their cocks sliding against one another again. Neither wants to stop kissing. “You like me praising you, Takashi?”

Shiro groans, rolls his hips harder against Keith and gently bites Keith’s jaw. “Yes.” He keeps on rocking, Keith’s legs parted for him. “How do you want to do this, baby? Just like this? Or do you want more?” They kiss again, mouths already tingling from sensitivity but kissing one another is something both of them are quickly becoming addicted to.

Keith’s nails drag down Shiro’s neck, making his skin rise to goosebumps. “You know I want everything with you.” Their hips rock, gently, confidently swaying against each other. “But- I don’t think I’ve told you enough how gorgeous you are, Takashi.” Keith’s hands slide lower to Shiro’s biceps, his fingers teasing the mess of scars surrounding Shiro’s stump. “Can I kiss you here?”

Shiro whines, nuzzling Keith’s cheek. “It’s really very sensitive, baby.” He wants it all too. He wants Keith’s cock in himself- he wants himself in Keith’s mouth, in Keith. He wants to explore this lithe, beautiful body under him from head to toe. For now he lets Keith take the reins and shifts so that Keith’s tongue can flick over the crisscrossing scars. Shiro keeps up a small movement of his hips, although he’s starting to shiver.

Keith doesn’t ask if he feels the kisses and gentle sucks, the noises Shiro has started to make are enough indication that he does. Soon Shiro has to sit back on his haunches, breathing hard, his cock fully swollen between his thighs. “Oh, fuck.”

Keith hums, licking his lips, his own chest heaving. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you curse, Takashi.” Goddamn, but hearing Takashi from those lips sounds good.

Shiro laughs breathlessly, spreading his palm on Keith’s chest in turn. “Believe me, I curse when the situation calls for it. And do keep calling me Takashi. I love to hear it from you.” He gently pinches a nipple and Keith shudders visibly.

“Keep calling me baby,” Keith murmurs and grabs Shiro’s wrist, brings his fingers to Keith’s lips. He wraps them around two digits at once and sucks. “It makes me want to orgasm right here.”

“You’re killing me,” Shiro groans, his voice gravelly as he pulls his hand back. “Just- just wait a second. I have condoms right here.”

“And lube,” Keith whispers dreamily, clearly watching as Shiro shifts closer to the edge of the bed to rummage through his night table.

“Of course.”

Keith pulls Shiro down for yet another kiss when he spots a tube and a couple of shiny squares between Shiro’s fingers. “Careful, I don’t want to crush you,” Shiro murmurs but kisses back, shoving the first condom into Keith’s hands. “Do you want me inside you?”

Keith licks into Shiro’s mouth, moving his leg tantalizingly up and down Shiro’s thigh. “Honestly, doing whatever sounds good.” Keith grins and he looks so beautiful Shiro has to kiss him hard for a hot second, to do nothing but kiss and kiss until Keith’s practically shoving him back.

“I’m addicted to you,” Shiro murmurs, shameless.

“I’m addicted to you,” Keith huffs. “We have all night. Why rush?

“Why rush indeed,” Shiro agrees and grabs Keith’s condom and moves lower, reaching Keith’s supple thighs and his beautiful, curved cock. “Keep on speaking, baby.”

“You’re gonna have to dig out more condoms, I think,” Keith murmurs as Shiro pulls the condom down on Keith’s cock.

“Maybe,” Shiro hums and takes Keith into his mouth.

Keith’s hands stay on Shiro’s head, Keith’s head thrown back, his eyes fluttering close. This is something Shiro can do, something he’s confident in although it’s not often he’s managed to get a guy this far. Shiro twirls his tongue over the tip, wraps a slick hand around the base and pumps.

“Yeah, yeah,” Keith murmurs. “Oh, hell- oh-“

Shiro closes his eyes, wrapping his lips tighter around the cock and pumping it, alternating between quick and slow licks and sucks.

Keith jolts. “Oh, Takashi. That feels so good. You’re doing so great, sweetheart, so good. Fuck. You’re so good to me.” Keith takes the hint of Shiro pressing tighter against him and tries to still his hips.

Shiro’s own cock is painfully hard and digging a burning hole through the sheets. He rocks his hips against them while he sucks, intent on getting more of those alluring sounds of arousal from Keith and hearing more of the praise that makes his body burn with need.

And Keith delivers. He whines, moans whenever Shiro licks the leaking tip hard enough. Keith calls him Takashi, calls him big boy and tells him he’s doing good, so great and that Keith’s feeling good- all because of Shiro.

Shiro lets the cock flop from his mouth and pumps it, kisses the tip reverently as he moves to kissing Keith’s inner thighs. “Hey, baby.” Keith’s thigh shudders when Shiro sucks on a spot particularly hard. “Can I finger you while I suck you?”

Keith groans, his death-grip on Shiro’s hair tightening. “God, yes.”

“Oh, fuck,” Shiro murmurs and blindly looks for the lube he had dropped somewhere on the bed. He finds it and clicks it open. Now, this takes some maneuvering but he manages: supports himself against Keith’s thigh, his mouth on Keith’s cock, his slick fingers circling Keith’s rim.

“I’m so hard it hurts, baby,” Shiro murmurs and sucks deep, rubbing Keith’s entrance sensually.

Keith lets out a choked noise. “Don’t tease, just put it-“ he moans, surprisingly loudly when Shiro slides the tip of his middle finger in.

“How does it feel, baby?” Shiro sucks Keith off, sliding his finger as deep as it goes.

“Your fingers are so much bigger than mine,” Keith manages between gasps and whimpers, his inner muscles instantly clenching against the intrusion. Yet they begin to relax with Shiro’s double-ministrations, with the finger- no, two now- sliding in and caressing, looking for the right spot and Shiro’s lips and tongue, slowly finding out what makes Keith tick.

By the time it’s four fingers, they’re kissing again, Keith rolling the condom on Shiro with gentle fingers. Keith’s voice is rough from speaking, Shiro’s own all but gone, Shiro’s wrist aching.

He pulls his fingers out, wiping them haphazardly on his sheets.

Keith’s breathless with pleasure, his eyes dark with desire, his cheeks flushed as he lays there, spread out under Shiro.

“Takashi,” Keith whispers, his voice curling softly, protectively around the name.

Shiro could listen to it forever. He brings himself to Keith’s entrance, seats himself better between Keith’s thighs but stops. “Keith,” he manages to say, his own voice gravelly and unrecognizable.

“Hey, big guy, no hesitating now,” Keith murmurs and bends his knees further. “You’re so gorgeous. You really are. If you’re up for it later, maybe I’ll fuck you.” He says all of it through parted, panting lips, his entire body flushed beautifully, his cock curving up and shiny from spit and lube.

“I’d like that, baby,” Shiro whispers and readies himself, balances himself good on his thighs. He watches Keith’s face as he gently begins to push in, guiding his cock slowly but surely, first past the lube-slicked rim, then further in where it’s hot and pulsing and wet.

Keith’s mouth opens even further, his face scrunching in pleasure. He gasps, a visible shudder running through him. For a moment neither speaks, neither moves. Then Shiro thrusts forward again when Keith’s inner muscles ease up their deadly grip on his cock. Finally the slow thrust ends and Shiro can move onwards no longer. He carefully leans to kiss Keith’s slack mouth.

“How are you feeling, baby? I’m feeling amazing. You feel amazing, baby.”

Keith groans, his fingers digging into Shiro’s shoulders. “Oh, fuck, your cock-“ Keith wraps his long, long legs around Shiro’s waist and squeezes. “Wait a sec, just a sec.”

Shiro stays as still as possible and watches Keith’s face. Keith watches him right back, body clamped around him like a vice. They exchange a kiss, that forms into two kisses, then three.

“Move,” Keith whispers.

Shiro moves, his heart bursting with love, his insides bursting with sheer want at the way Keith throws his head back and moans. He drags his nails down Shiro’s chest when Shiro goes back to his original position again: hunched over Keith.

Each slow drag of Shiro’s cock ignites the both of them, both moaning, whispering each other’s names. _I love you, I love you, I love you,_ Shiro thinks _. I think I already do._

 _I love you, I love you, I love you,_ Keith thinks. _I know I already do._

Shivers run through their bodies, waves of heat running from head to toe and concentrating on where their bodies are connected.

“You are beautiful, Takashi,” Keith murmurs between gasps and moans, his body contorted so sensually under Shiro.

“Baby,” is all Shiro manages, his pace quickening for a second, then slowing again until they both feel like they’re being ignited from the inside, heading towards an initial explosion, towards the cliff’s edge.

They reach it more or less together, Shiro way before Keith- spurred on by the way Keith sounds and looks. Shiro pulls out to coax Keith through his orgasm and kisses him through it, lets Keith moan into his mouth until Keith’s body finally stops jolting and shivering.

Shiro flops down next to Keith and pulls him close, kissing his forehead.

Keith curls up instantly, whimpering softly. “Heck yeah,” he murmurs.

“Oh, Keith,” Shiro whispers and finds Keith’s mouth again, stroking his neck. “Stay the night.” _Stay forever._

“As long as you make me breakfast, boyfriend,” Keith murmurs back, his eyes already half-closed.

“Anything you want, boyfriend,” Shiro says and kisses Keith’s nose.

 


End file.
